Hyrule: 2247 AD
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: His parents gone, Alex joins a gang to escape authorities who threaten to put him in the system; the Crimsons give him a home, a family, and a new name. But when a scheme goes wrong, can he handle the consequences? Rated T for future violence; Zelink.
1. Chapter 1: Undeserved Misfortune

**A/N: **This is a newer story of mine, but it probably won't be updated as frequently as my other work, Ameas Night. That one is my main focus at the moment, but I had this idea and just had to write it down. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. =)

Note: Link's POV.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda, nor any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter 1: Undeserved Misfortune**

I stared at my parents' graves in the eerie light that bounced off the city smog. The toes of my red sneakers brushed the edges of the fresh mounds of earth, one on each. The silence of the night enveloped me, and a cold wind whipped up from the dark valleys beyond, throwing dust in my eyes. They stung, and tears blurred my vision – amazing how that's what it took to make me cry. Stupid dirt…

It wasn't fair. Then again, life had a habit of doing that quite often. Picking favorites. Some got all the luck – like that Dragmire guy who was winning the presidential election in a landslide. He wasn't even that great a guy; but it seemed that people, and fate, favored his syrupy words and eloquent speeches about progress. Bah. And his vice president, that Twili, Josiah Zant… I shuddered.

It was those kinds of people who got off easy. They got fame, fortune, wealth… What did I have?

"You about ready to accept our offer now, Alex?"

I didn't jump. Not much could ever scare me; Mom used to call me brave. I glanced back. A tall, broad-shouldered redhead clad in leather stood a few paces behind me, thick arms folded over his chest. I frowned at him; he was one of the last people I needed to talk to.

"What makes you think I changed my mind, Groose?"

He cocked a brow and swung an open palm at the graves in front of me. "Need I say more?"

His words stung. More than I wanted to admit. I turned back to the headstones, steeling myself. "Just… leave me alone."

"You know you'll go into the system now, if you stay, right? And take my word for it: that ain't a nice place to be. You'll get juggled from family to family, and the majority of 'em will treat you like a dog…"

"You know this from personal experience?"

From his silence, I knew I'd hit something solid. And when he spoke again, his voice had dropped an octave.

"Listen – I'm trying to help you. You seem like a nice kid. But you don't got nothing left. Your parents are dead, your house burned down – their wills were in there, Alex. Even if they handed the estate to you, no one will ever know. The authorities are searching for you as we speak. And if they catch you…" He made a slitting motion across his throat, being sure to add a gruesome sound effect. "You'll regret it."

"So you're suggesting I just throw myself into that little gang of yours and hope you treat me better than the authorities? Ha! Fat chance."

"Hey!" I didn't turn to look at him, but I heard indignation in his voice. "Unorthodox though it may be, we're still a family. We look out for each other – which is more than you got right now."

He had a point. And I knew I was only prolonging the inevitable. When it came right down to it, I really didn't have anything else to turn to. I had been left empty handed by my parents' passing. I could avoid the system if I wanted, but where would I stay while I did? I had no place to go. I had no other choice.

Groose had remained silent as I did, and his expression was one of obligatory patience when I turned around to face him with a heavy sigh.

"All right. I'll do it…" There. I'd done it. I was now signing myself over to the Crimsons.

Groose's face stretched with an overenthusiastic grin, and he came to my side, slapping me hard on the shoulder. "Good choice. Now come on; we still have time before dawn for the initiation. Let's go add a new link to the chain!"

He led the way down the hill, toward the gates of the cemetery. We ducked behind the wall as a black and white cruiser hovered by, its red and blue lights rotating lazily. Once it rounded the corner down the next dark street, Groose led the climb up the wall, and over. We both landed as light as was possible on the asphalt on the other side.

"Hey, I like that," Groose muttered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah…"

"Like what?"

"Well, you're gonna need a new name anyway, considering the authorities would recognize your name as is."

I frowned. "A new name?"

"Yeah! A new name for a new life. And I think we'll call you Link."

I wrinkled my nose. What kind of name was that? Sometimes, I wondered about ol' Groose… "Link? Why Link?"

"Because! It sounds cool! Like I said – a new Link in the chain. Get it?" He chuckled giddily at his own joke. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, yes. Terrific. I get a name, and a pun. Whoopee."

He clapped an arm over my shoulders and ground his knuckles into my hair, making me grimace and pry myself out of his clutches. "Oh, come on, now, don't be so enthusiastic." He gave me a shove, and then beckoned me to follow as he stole away into the dark neighborhood.

In contrast with the clean yards, fancy hovercars, and elegent houses, Groose looked totally out of his element in dirty torn jeans, old sneakers, and his studded leather jacket. Not to mention his hair… Ugh. But he seemed to know his way around the neighborhood surprisingly well.

"How on earth do you know these streets so well? I thought you lived on the other side of town…" We paused in the shadow of a tree line – a rarity anywhere else – as another patrol circled the block.

"I do, but come on, Link!" He was already enjoying my new handle. "This is my city you're talking about. I know it like the back of my hand."

Once the patrol was out of sight, Groose led me down the shrouded streets, taking seemingly random turns at random intervals until we came to the Ordon community gates. Yes, my parents had lived in a gated community, and I would have too… had the house not burned down. The gates were closed after nine at night. I glanced at my watch – 11:30. Oh, yeah, they were locked. For sure.

But the big kid that guided me wasn't phased in the least, and with the grace of a chimpanzee, he scaled the gates and swung over to the other side. He struck a triumphant pose and grinned. I rolled my eyes.

Flicking out the pocket knife my father had given me for my last birthday, I approached the latch of the gates. I knew it'd set off the alarm, but hey – who cares anymore, right? I studied the lock, then suddenly jammed the blade into it, and I felt the latch give to it and grinned. The red light in the control booth illuminated the little space, streaming out the windows, and I knew that a silent alarm was going off right now at the City Station. We didn't have long before all the patrols in the area surrounded us.

I put away the knife and darted through the gates, ignoring Groose's incredulous look. "Come on! They'll have this place crawling with droids in no time."

He shook himself out of his stupor. "Right! Let's get outta here!"

We fled into the night of the city beyond, and I could hear sirens fading slowly away as patrols flooded to those gates.

But most likely, I'd never see those gates again. I had no reason to, unless I felt like visiting my parents' graves. Which, at the moment, I wasn't feeling sentimental. I really had no other option but to embrace this new future I was suddenly faced with. In some ways it seemed scarier, more intimidating than my other choice – reduced from plenty to a life on the streets? That was a lot for a thirteen-year-old to take in. It'd send most into shock for a few days.

But the idea of the system… Never having a real home, unless someone was charitable enough to actually adopt you. Always at the mercy of strangers, who could do with you as they pleased and threaten to throw you out into the streets if you ever told anyone the things they did. Changing schools every couple of months.

That scared me more.

We drifted further into the bowels of Skyloft, and I couldn't help notice that we seemed to be avoiding the brighter lights at the city heart. While I could see the looming towers of the skyscrapers disappearing into the smog high above, Groose kept to the shadows, the alleyways, the shabby areas of town.

The slums.

I never thought I'd step foot in the slums. Mom and Dad had always told me to never do so, but here I was. In the thick of them.

"Almost there…" Groose's voice had dropped to a whisper, and I wondered – though, perhaps didn't want to know – why he was suddenly so wary.

He darted across a road with me in tow, and went around to the alley side of the moderate building with white siding – or, at least, I think it used to be white. There waited a cement staircase leading down to a shabby door. A few brown bottles, and a warped pizza box cluttered the landing at the bottom.

"This… is your place?" I asked, eyeing the bottles.

He shook his head. "No, this is just the entrance we have to take. We go through here, crawl through the ducts, and come out in the old subway tunnels."

"Why the subway tunnels?"

For a moment, he almost seemed irked. He sighed, closing his eyes and pausing a moment. "So many questions… Because no one ever goes down there, that's why!"

I cocked a brow, but didn't say anything more as he shoved open the door with his shoulder. A long hallway greeted us, with doors lining either side. An old apartment building… that reeked with tobacco smog and liquor. More trash lined the hall, and a few of the doors hung partially open.

"Ugh… This place is-"

"A dump. I know." Groose started down the hallway, and I followed. "The landlord to this place died a couple months back. No one ever did anything with the building, so it's become a popular haunt for the more… uh, raggedy crowd."

I heard a sputter of drunken curses from one of the open doors, and tried to block my ears to the lewd comments they accompanied. A shudder wracked my spine.

"Let's just get outta this place…"

"Here's the duct." Once we reached the end of the hall, Groose pointed upward at the vent that hung crooked along the low ceiling. He reached up and swung the loose panel all the way down to reveal the small crawlspace. Then he looked about the hall, and grabbed an old wastebasket that sat lonely and haphazardly strewn with the rest of the junk. He set it upside down under the vent, and stepped on it. He then hoisted himself into the small hole in the wall. I watched until his sneaker-clad feet disappeared.

"All right, little dude, come on up!"

Little dude… I made a face and climbed atop the wastebasket. To my chagrin, the vent wasn't nearly as easy for me to reach as it was for Groose. I stretched to clamber up, but nearly slipped when he grabbed my wrists and dragged me in. I winced at the loud noise of the ductwork bowing underneath us.

I rubbed my ribs, which were sore from banging against the edge of the vent. "Thanks…"

"No problem; come on!"

We crawled through the maze of heat ducts, again going in no direction in particular. We passed the ceiling vents of numerous rooms, most of them reeking, or echoing with drunken conversations. Personally, I couldn't wait to get outta there.

Finally, Groose stopped when the duct came to a dead end. He pushed on the grate, and it fell off and clattered onto what sounded like cement below. The damp air assaulted me, and I could feel my hair starting to frizz.

"We're here." Swiveling around, he dropped his feet out first and then was gone.

I peered out after him. Water dripped from dozens of old pipes and metal ladders that twisted and wandered about the ceiling. It was stuffy down here, but tolerable. Crates piled about in random stacks, and old ratty blankets, coats, and sheets were strewn about the floor. Then, my gaze fell to a sight I'd never forget.

A ragtag team of punks, thugs, and scraggly gangsters, is what they were. A lug with beefy arms the size of small tree trunks, and a round head settled on shoulders broader than a quarterback's stood at the back of the group next to Groose. A short, stocky, black-haired boy finished digging for gold up his nose and then cleaned his finger on the scrawny blond beside him, who wrinkled his nose in disgust, but said nothing. A younger-looking girl with short green hair done up in a punk style chewed a mouthful of gum loudly, the _smack-smack-smack_ being the only sound besides the drip of water from the pipes. Last but not least was a bored looking girl with a long, bird-like face, sandy hair tied in two ponytails, and a rather large, distracting beauty mark to the left of her nose.

Wow… What a crew. Suppressing another shudder, I carefully swung from the duct. I reached my foot down for some kind of hold, and found none. As I tried to position my fingers for a better grip, I only succeeded in making myself slip. It was a good yard to the ground, and the impact jarred my shins, making me stumble, and flop onto my behind on the hard cement floor.

The gang behind me burst into laughter and I stood up, suppressing the urge to rub my aching tailbone and ducking my head as my cheeks flamed. Groose came over and slapped my shoulder… again.

"All right, Linky."

I grimaced.

"On to initiation, and then you're one of us."

_One of us_… Just one little test. Then I would have a family again…

Groose led the way through the dank subway tunnels, with me close behind, and the rest of the gang following suit. Our footsteps echoed on the pavement, bouncing down the caverns to who knows where and back again. I couldn't help but wonder exactly how big this place was… The blond girl fell into step beside me, walking close enough to make me nervous. I glanced at her, and she attempted and epically failed a seductive smile.

Blech. I hurried to walk closer to Groose. At the moment, he was all the protection I had.

We came to a large square, and Groose led us up a flight of steel steps in the middle to a circular drain on the ceiling. He tilted it up slightly, and beckoned me to join him in peering out.

"You see it?"

I looked out, and found myself peeking across an asphalt surface – a road. In the direction we were staring, a large iron gate loomed, with a large house – a mansion – beyond it, just up a long driveway lined with rose bushes – rose bushes! An engraved plate on the brick wall, beside a black metal mailbox, read: _Harkinians._

"That's the ambassador's place," whispered Groose. "Top-notch security systems, silent alarms, electric fence, video cameras – the guy's got his own guardhouse, for crying out loud! Now, here's what you gotta do: you gotta find a way past the wall, and get into the house. There's an old servants' entrance in the back. You go in, and you grab something that'll prove you were in there, and bring it back. Main objective? Don't get caught! Watch out for the guards and their dogs, too. They catch you, you're toast. Got it?"

I blinked up at the intimidating property and slowly nodded. Suddenly, Groose grabbed me and hoisted me up and out of the drain hole. I stumbled up, looking around for cars or patrols, before lowering my gaze to the drain.

Groose gave me a thumbs-up.

_Oh, thanks, that's very encouraging._

I slowly turned toward the looming gates, and gulped. A hundred and one terrible scenarios of what could happen after I vaulted those gates crossed my mind in rapid fire, drawing the color from my face until I nearly felt dizzy. I shook my head, ridding it of those hindering thoughts. I couldn't afford to think like that right now!

Casting one last glance to Groose under the drain lid, I approached the iron gates. I could hear the electricity popping over them like dozens of those little popper fireworks. Who knew what the voltage was; considering it was barring the way to a rich person's house, no doubt it was high and one touch – zzzzzzpt! Fried Al… Link.

Instead of wasting time trying to figure out how to shut the gate off, I turned to the brick wall instead. It was big enough to be a castle wall – probably at least twelve feet tall. Maybe higher; I wasn't good at estimating.

But there were vines, tons of 'em, crawling up the sides. Yeah, life could be convenient sometimes.

I gripped the vines, and started scaling the wall, only grabbing hold of the thicker strands so they wouldn't break. As I got closer and closer to the top, I refused to look down – the last thing I needed was a reminder that I was twice my height off the ground, hanging onto plants.

I reached the top after a while, my arms feeling like noodles. I stepped over the razor wire, and then looked down. Next obstacle – find a way down without breaking my neck. There were no vines here, unfortunately for me.

Pursing my lips, I studied the yard below. Then a thought hit me – Groose said there was a guardhouse! Now, if I was correct in my thinking, that guardhouse would be… Yes! Right there, a few feet from the wall by the gate.

Now to get on it and down without being seen or heard.

I saw a security camera and froze, but then relaxed upon discovering it was facing the opposite direction, just behind the gates. I crept closer to the small structure, steadied myself, and jumped onto its roof. My toe scuffed the flat roof, and I flopped onto my side. My heart seemed to stop, and I listened… Listened for any sound or sign that there were any guards below, or that they had come to find me.

Nothing but the hiss of the wind in the trees. Huh; trees. Only wealthy people, public recreation areas, gated communities, and graveyards had trees.

I shook my head, stood, and brushed myself off. Ignoring the scrapes on my elbows, I jumped off the roof and landed with a soft thud in the cool grass. For a moment, I was tempted to sprawl out on the lush lawn, feel the cold of the blades against my cheek… But I didn't have the time. I had to do this as quickly as possible.

I looked up at the dark house. It looked kinda creepy, actually. Most of the windows were dark, and vines crawled up the sides like some sort of disease. Only the light from one window splashed over the yard. I kept to the shadows as I approached the nearest brick wall, walking as light and quick as I possibly could. I'd caught a glimpse of one of the security guards and his big Doberman – really didn't feel like running into those two right now.

Trailing my fingers over the brick, I followed the wall around to the back, where I spotted the back door. Upon reaching it, I found it locked, and took out my pocketknife again. After a few minutes of fruitless tinkering, I paused.

_What am I doing! _Just because he has a wall doesn't mean the guy doesn't have an alarm for his doors!

There had to be another way in; it was too risky to keep trying the door. I glanced around, putting my knife away and spotting a dim light coming from an open window above me – just within the reaches of one of the trees. Perfect!

I shimmied up the tree, and quietly inched toward the window, peering in to see what the light was coming from. To my relief, it was just a nightlight on the opposite wall. To the left, a small figure lay curled up under the comforters on the bed, facing the wall. Good; if I was quiet enough, then I could sneak past them.

I tiptoed as far out on the branch as I dared, getting just within arm's reach of the window before it started bowing under my weight. Carefully, I leaned forward, groping for the windowsill.

My foot slipped. I suppressed a scream and grabbed for the sill. My fingers just barely caught the edge, and my knees banged into the rough surface of the wall. I gritted my teeth in pain and suppressed a yelp.

"Ooh… I'm wondering if this is really worth it," I grumbled. It took all the muscle mass in my arms – which wasn't much, really – to pull myself up and over the rim. I tumbled into the room, stepped on a pile of books and pitched forward in an epic faceplant onto the cream-colored carpet. The breath whooshed out of my lungs and I held still for a long moment, trying to catch it again. The room remained silent, and after a bit, I moved to sit up.

Then I froze. The person in the bed… was awake. And staring at me.

It was a girl.

Her blue eyes held no accusation or fear, only intense curiosity. Her blond braid glowed gold in the orange light of the nightlight.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I felt like a fish; open mouth… close mouth. Open mouth… close mouth. Waiting for words to come, and finding none.

"Who are you?" she asked first, cocking her head at me. Her delicate brow furrowed the slightest, but not into a full-blown frown. "What are you doing here?"

_Maybe she's read Peter Pan one too many times… People usually freak when some stranger falls into their room through the window. _I stuttered as I searched for some kind of intelligent response. "I… Uh-uh… I, you… You see… Um…" _So much for intelligence._

"_Zelda?"_ came a muffled voice from downstairs, and I went rigid. _"Zelda, is everything all right?"_

The girl looked from the door to me, and I stared at her with wide eyes, silently begging her not to say anything. _Come on, please; I don't wanna go to Juvi… _I didn't really expect her to go along with it. I mean, if some raggedy kid came barreling through my window, I'd probably leap from my bed and scream bloody murder.

The potency of her gaze made me shiver, though. Her eyes didn't leave me as she responded to the person downstairs. "No, Daddy… Just fell out of bed again."

"_Do you need anything?"_

"No, I'm all right."

"_Very well… Then, good night, buttercup."_

"Good night, Daddy…"

She swiveled out of bed, the hem of her long white nightgown falling to her ankles as she stood and approached me. She gripped my arm and pulled me to my feet; I staggered a bit, but quickly righted myself before I knocked into her. Steadying me with her hands on my arms, she stared up into my eyes. Her gaze seemed much older than she looked, and the seemingly endless blue depths were infinite enough to make me shudder.

"You'd better go," she said quietly, her gaze never wavering. "Before Daddy comes to check on me."

I slowly nodded, not sure why I was complying so easily, yet seeing no other option. I backed away, watching as the ambassador's daughter retreated back to her bed and disappeared under the covers once more. When she wasn't looking, I bent to grab one of the books that was lying on the floor. _Ha. Peter Pan. The irony._

Getting out of that mansion was easier than getting in. I knew the way back, and the guardhouse was easy enough to climb. I left the same way I came. When I lifted the drain lid, Groose practically yanked me back in and down onto the metal platform.

"Hey, you survived!" He grinned. "Didja get something?"

I smiled and held up the book. He snatched it from my hand and opened it up right at the beginning. Peering over his shoulder with some difficulty, I saw what he was looking for.

_This book belongs to: Zelda Harkinian._

"Perfect!" Groose threw his arm over my shoulders and shook me. I think the gesture was supposed to be friendly, but it nearly cracked my neck. "Well, guys, looks like we got ourselves a new Crimson!"

The pack of them surrounded me, patting my shoulders and ruffling my hair, and I couldn't help but grin. This… This was definitely a family. And it was now my family.


	2. Chapter 2: Out with a Bang

**Chapter 2: Out with a Bang**

"_Come on, Link, get in there, or you'll screw this up!"_

"I'm going, I'm going…" Gosh, why were girls so pushy? Seems no matter what a guy did, there was always _something _to complain about. I was tempted to just turn off the sound on that blasted earpiece and be done with it. But of course, that wasn't an option. Groose'd kill me if I did.

I approached the back door of the building just across the alley, slipping the metal tabs onto my fingertips before tapping awake the screen on the wall. As expected, a bar instantly popped up, awaiting the password to be typed. Placing the tabs at the corners, I broadened the hologram, and searched for that little hyperlink… Ah, there it was. In the corner.

I plugged my AIP into the driver, setting it to import the virus into the building's security system as I hacked my way through the encryption. This would glitch up the camera system, freezing their input and enabling the rest of the gang to sneak in. Meanwhile, I had yet to crack the password to opening this giant door…

Aha! Admittance Confirmed. That's what I wanted to see. There was a loud clang as I cut off the hologram screen, disconnected my Pad, and pried the tabs from my fingers. By the time they were safely in my pocket, that massive barricade had swung open automatically. I paused as I went in, just to get a load of the size of that thing.

"Wow… That is a big door," I muttered to myself before darting into the labyrinth that was the basement of the Intergalactic Trade Center.

Man alive, talk about the perfect horror movie set. Long, dark tunnels that didn't seem to go anywhere, hundreds of different passages and turns going who knows where, steam pouring from pipes along the ceiling, stagnate, moist air… The accumulation of it made me shudder.

Sweat dripped off my brow by the time I reached the heavy, armored door at the end of the hallway. With a glance at the camera in the corner, and a smirk – I was the Invisible Man – I gave the doorknob a jerk. It didn't budge. I muttered a curse under my breath, and dug for the Pad in my pocket. Then the earpiece squawked.

"_Link, where are you?" _came Navi's shrill voice over the line, and I winced. It'd take a week for my poor ear to recover.

"Shhh…" I knew no one would be able to hear her anyhow… At least, I hoped not. "I'm at the end of the hall. Door's locked. Hacking it now." Upon seeing no driver for this keypad, I opened the panel on the side of the device and rolled out the little contraption Scrapper had put together for me. Hooking one pincer on either side of the keypad, I gave a mock mad-scientist laugh. "Shocking, is it not?" With the press of a button, the keypad sparked, and went dark. There was a click as the door unlocked.

"Brilliantly done, Scrapper," I muttered as I closed the panel once more and slid the device into my pocket again. "Brilliantly done." The door opened easily this time, and I slipped through into the lighted hallway beyond.

This hallway was cleaner, but just as dark. Just across from where I emerged, there was a staircase leading up – to the lobby. But first… I scanned the block for a restroom and, upon locating one, slipped inside. It was time for Phase Two: Mingle.

I took a last look at my appearance in the mirror before I was forced to change it yet again. I'd gotten quite accustomed to clothes that were either too big or too small – with as little funds as we had, we bought (or in some cases, stole) what we could and had to live with what we got. Today's ensemble included jeans that were just a tad tighter than well-fitting – but of course, that was the fad these days – a pretty cool looking graphic tee, and a black hoodie that almost looked like it was eating me. Not to mention my less-than-stellar pair of tennis shoes. But I never got rid of these ones. I had yet to grow into them and even though they were tattered and practically falling apart, them and me, we'd been through a lot together.

I snickered. I was thinking about shoes as if they were people. What has my mind come to?

Giving my head a slight shake, I slipped the hoodie off and stuffed it into my satchel. After straightening my shirt, I groped about the bag for the replacement article and, upon finding the bit of fancier fabric, dragged it out.

Groose never did tell me where he got this nice of a suit jacket from. Whether he'd lifted it or not. But still… It would provide a better cover where I was about to go than looking like a teenage hooligan – which happened to be pretty much what I was, but all those VIPs didn't need to know that.

I also looped the strap of the phony press pass – Scrapper really is a genius – over my head and straightened it a bit before taking in my new appearance. Sure, the skinnies were here to stay, but as I said – it was a style. And the _Skyloft Express' _latest intern's gotta be up with the times, right? I gave my hair a once over with my fingers, hoping it'd tame down just a little bit… but to no avail. Several unruly strands of blond still flung themselves in dozens of different directions; I gave a sharp sigh of exasperation.

"I 'spose that's as good as it's gonna get." I pointed to my hair in the mirror. "I'll deal with you later." Then I closed the satchel and left the restroom.

It was true; I was in desperate need of a haircut.

Upon reaching the lobby, I found that people had already begun to pack in. They lined the hallway, and the foyer as one by one, they went through the security scanners. Pretty soon, I'd have to go through them as well, but I'd get a shortcut – what, being a reporter from the _Express _of course. The gal at the press scanner waved me over as soon as her purple eyes fell to the pass bouncing around my neck. By her blue skin, fins, and, uh, rather large head, it wasn't hard to tell she was a Zora. Wow; hadn't seen one of them in a while.

"Please remove your shoes, coat, hat, bag, and all electronics, please," she rattled off, though her expression was cheery.

I did as I was told, discreetly placing my tattered shoes in the bottom of the bin, laying my jacket, bag, and AIPad on top. She turned on the conveyer and gestured for me to step through the archway. As I did so, I chanced a glance in her direction and noticed her disapproving glances as she had lifted each item out of the bin to slide it alone through the miniature scanner that alerted for weapons, bombs, or chemicals. She had found my shoes, and her eyes darted up to meet mine.

Time for the act. I furrowed my brow, 'insulted' at her stare. "They're all I have…" I snapped, a bit defensively.

This was how I used to react before I grew accustomed to those judgmental glares – emotionally charged, boosted by the hormones of puberty… But of course, that was all five years ago. I'd since learned to use all of that to my advantage. The tattered shoes often won over a sympathy vote whenever we tried conning our way into some easy cash, or a quick meal.

The Zora's eyes darted at my suit jacket, and I heard her unspoken question, and pretended to be bashful. "It's, um… my dad's. He let me borrow it for my first day on the job…"

Oh, thank heaven I'd learned myself some charm over the years. The puppy-face and my play on her maternal instincts worked. A soft smile graced her blue face, and she slid the shoes through the small box. No alarms went off, and on the other side, she stacked my belongings back into the bin, and slid it down the remainder of the shoot. I caught it, sent her my best charming smile, and fished my stuff out of the plastic container. A purple hue tinted her cheeks – it always made me wanna laugh, the Zoras' blush.

After getting all my things back onto my person, I made my way down the hall, and tapped the button on the earpiece. "Link to Navi – I'm in."

"_Great! There should be a pair of big double doors."_

I stopped in my tracks, my eyes widening as I gazed down the long hallway. "Um… which one?" The hall was lined with dozens of pairs of big double doors, each one elegantly stained to perfection, a deep mahogany red to match the regal red carpet, the beige walls, and the ivory trim.

"_Oh, right! Sorry! Um, second on the left. Should be labeled 'Sheikah Hall'. With a flyer on the door announcing the press conference."_

I came to the door, noted the plaque above the door that gave the title of the room beyond, and searched for the flyer. My gaze found it, just to the right of the door, the screen scrolling all the information and statistics about the meeting that was about to take place inside. With a small smirk of triumph, I cracked the door, and slipped inside.

The press always got there first. Hence, it didn't surprise me when I nearly collided with a cameraman as soon as I turned around. There was barely any room to turn my head, and I had to squeeze my way around to the far left wall.

Sitting up at the raised table at the north wall, I could see Cornelius Harkinian at the center chair on one side, his running partner, Geopora Sininen, his campaign manager Rauru Sage, and his golden-haired daughter, Zelda. On the other side, sat the other leading candidate's choice for vice president, Josiah Zant, and Temno Sylku, their campaign manager. It would seem that the man of the hour – presidential candidate Ganondorf Dragmire – had yet to show up. Now this was a man who didn't know when to give up. This was the third time he'd tried to run for president. Both times previous, he'd been the runner up, beaten by only minor votes. Yet, he kept at it. He really was irritating. Not only was he egotistical and biased, but get this – he was Gerudo. Gerudo! And they were letting him run for president of the planet of Hyrule? Eesh… Society was so wrong. Though… It was slightly more disturbing the fact that Zant was a Twili – a treacherous Twili. Did the public honestly believe that a man who placed his confidence in a Twili could be trusted? Especially after that coup against the royals on their planet…

All right, my thoughts ran away with me. I shook my head to clear it, and continued down the aisle, to the door that lead backstage.

Whomever candidate was the favorite today, both were certainly going to get a surprise, though, for the most part, this was for Harkinian. He had a ticket he was riding on to acquire votes, and that was his promises to lower taxes, upgrade the Armada, and crack down on gangs. And the Crimsons, as a gang, were not the first to object… only perhaps the first to publicly do something about it.

"All right, Navi," I whispered once I passed through the door into the dark room just behind the platform. "I'm in the back. Give Groose the signal."

"_Righto, Linky-wink!"_

"And don't call me that!"

She giggled, and the other end of the line went silent once more. Most likely, she was transferring the feed to Groose's headset, and letting him know everyone was in place. Meanwhile, I wanted to check in and make sure for myself. I twisted the knob on my earpiece, and waited until the static cleared.

"Peatrice, you copy?"

"_Present and accounted for, hot rod."_

I rolled my eyes. "In your place?"

"_Duh. Where else would I be, Fiji? …Can I go to Fiji? Please? Personally much rather be there right now."_

"Why?"

"_The guy standing next to me reeks like… garlic and mustard."_

"Bystander?"

"_No. Cameraman."_

I chuckled, and pressed the piece tighter in my ear. "All right. Ten-four." Giving the knob another twist, I winced at the crackle, and gave it a small flick. "Saria, fall in."

"_Here, Link. With Cawlin."_

"Hmm… That could have some pretty strange implications, considering where you two are supposed to be."

Silence saturated the line for a long moment. _"…You take that back, Link, this second! You hear me? You are disgusting!"_

I couldn't help but snicker as she rattled off a few colorful words that no respectable girl should ever utter. "Wow, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?"

"_Link! Just… just… just shut up, all right? You are so impertinent…"_

"A four-syllable word; I'm impressed."

She gave a long-suffering sigh. _"We're in position. Saria out."_

Static blasted in my ear, and I winced as I hurried to change the frequency. Gosh, that girl was so fun to tease.

"Stritch?"

Silence.

"…Stritch, you there?"

Something crackled, and the boy's nasal voice came over the line in a muttered 'hm?' I cocked a brow.

"What on earth are you doing?"

There were a few odd sounds, then the distinct sound of someone swallowing before he actually answered in a whole coherent word.

"_Keepin' watch. Like Groose said."_

"Sure, you are… You wouldn't happen to be watching from the banquet table, would you?"

More silence, and he swallowed again, this time nervously. _"Uh… It ain't like I'm not keeping surveillance… Not really. I can still keep an eye out."_

"Sure…"

He remained victim to awkward silence a moment longer before he sighed anxiously. _"Well… Good talkin' to you, Link… Better wait for Groose's signal." _Then, he was gone. I smirked, and wound the earpiece frequency back to Navi's channel. Outside my little hiding spot, I heard the crowd filing in, and the reporters grew suddenly louder. A deep baritone of a sophisticated-sounding voice came over the loudspeakers, and I recognized it instantly as the molasses voice of Ganondorf Dragmire.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this press conference. If you would all please take your seats; I apologize for the delay. Traffic is quite rough in the skyway today."

There then came the sound of hundreds of chairs getting settled in. After a few minutes of that, I heard the moderator speak into his microphone.

"The conference will now begin."

Dozens of people spoke at once, a sound I could easily hear through the door. Finally, one voice came louder over the speakers.

"Gunther Rapidash, from _Citizens' Voice_. Mr. Dragmire, what are your opinions on the plummeting economy?"

_Ooh, start off with a biggy._

"That would depend on what area of the so-called plummeting economy to which you are referring."

"I am referring to the extended inflation, and sudden rise of market prices."

"This planet is running out of resources. Hence, the value of our currency is dropping drastically. In order to mend this epidemic, it would be wise to seek further provinces on other planets and/or moons that we could claim, and therefore, benefit from their resources."

"And what of Mr. Harkinian's opinion on said epidemic?"

Harkinian's voice wasn't as sugary and dignified-sounding as Dragmire's, but it was still the voice of an aristocrat, through and through. "New planets and moons would not solve our economic problems. This planet is in the shape it is in because of its lack of responsibility. Resources are wasting away, our planetary debt is on the rise from extensive imported goods – more than we need – and no one is willing to spend what funds this planet has wisely. We hardly produce anything for ourselves any longer; it's time we stepped up, and showed ourselves worthy of our title of The Planet of Freedom."

"The Planet of Freedom," said Dragmire, "was so called because of its base government which refuses no one to enter past our borders, and our promise of a life free of hardship and struggle to all who reside within our atmosphere."

"Free of hardship and struggle, not free of work entirely. Our planet was built upon the blood, sweat, and tears of our forefathers, who worked to establish the reputation we have today! Would we so disrespect their legacy by letting our planet fall to ruin simply because the people had become lazy in their doings?"

"Certainly a way to encourage voters in your favor, Harkinian, calling them lazy."

This argument wasn't a new one. Dragmire and Harkinian never saw eye to eye, which made their competition all the more entertaining. I'd never been one for politics, but they certainly made it interesting.

I heard a crackle in the earpiece, and tuned out the sound from the room beyond. Groose's voice came on quietly after a short moment.

"_All right, Link. As soon as they get to the whole gang thing – and don't worry, they will – we'll make our move. I'm counting on you this time, bud; don't screw it."_

"Chill, Groose; I got this."

"_Yeah, you better." _Static, and then nothing. I sighed. After all we'd been through, he still had yet to trust me…

"Mr, Harkinian, you said in your last conference that you planned to increase punishment for petty crimes, and create a task force to battle the rising gangs in larger communities." A woman reporter was speaking this time. "Can you tell us a little more about this?"

"Gladly. I feel our society has backslide long enough. Kids should not have to rely on gangs for families. I want to create restrictions for divorce, punishment for fornication and adultery… While I cannot directly change the minds of the parents of society, I can aid them into keeping better family units. It's a sad thing to see, how the family has become so degraded, so much so that our planet's youth feels the need to rebel to the extent it has, and has been reduced to living lives on the filthy streets of the slums, fending for themselves in a dog-eat-dog world. God save them; they've had very little better example to follow."

_Blah, blah, blah. _And what about those kids who had no family to turn to? They'd just be thrown into the system, as usual, tossed around like a hot potato, going from stranger to stranger until they were old enough to enter society as an adult and, again, be left to fend for themselves. Considered riffraff by the higher-nosed upper class, usually with missing years in school, and no plan to attend college… At least he was right when he said it was a dog-eat-dog world. Survival of the fittest.

"_Now, Link. Light 'em up!"_

I peered through the curtain that lead out onto the platform, on which sat the candidates and their parties. Several camera lights blinked in the audience beyond, and I couldn't help but grin. This was going to be perfect.

As quiet as I possibly could, I slid the crates a tad closer, just so they barely brushed the curtains, and a larger barrel was pointed through the crack of the fabric, and pulled the lighter from inside my shoe. I gave it a flick, and a small flame leapt from the top. I touched it to the lengthy wick that trailed from the wooden boxes. It lit easily. As it hissed away, the little spark growing ever closer to the contents of the boxes, I darted away, and stopped at the wall beside the door. I knew I should be heading out, but… I just had to see this.

Moments passed. Finally, there was a loud whoosh, and a fountain of colorful sparks erupted from the crates. It poured over the cement floor like water, and just as more began to spill out, I stepped through the door to see what was going on outside the room.

All of the questionees of the conference were up out of their chairs, and darting away from the myriad of sparks that arced from behind the curtains in sprays of blue, purple, red, and white. I stifled a laugh as Zant stumbled over his chair, Sininen vaulted over the meeting table, and Zelda Harkinian gave a loud girlish shriek of terror. The curtains withdrew, and I knew that Saria and Cawlin had been in their correct places. Now the fireworks were fully exposed in their explosive glory, sending sparks flying over the audience as they scattered. I glanced to the back of the room, and spotted Peatrice amongst the clamoring reporters and observers, leaving our mark on the wall.

Everything was going perfectly.

Until I felt hands tighten about my forearms.

"Hey! What in the name of Sam Hill do you think you're doing back here?"

I craned my head around, and found myself staring into the frustrated faces of two security guards. Then I realized I had been leisurely tossing the lighter back and forth between my hands… and I knew I had done it. Really done it this time. I blew it… and went out with a bang.


End file.
